<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>funhouse horror by killerqueenwrites</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29970252">funhouse horror</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/killerqueenwrites/pseuds/killerqueenwrites'>killerqueenwrites</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt/Comfort, Peter Parker Giving Tony Stark a Heart Attack, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Protective Tony Stark, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Trapped, Whump, because I said so, but everything kind of worked out, various franchise references</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 03:07:07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,134</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29970252</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/killerqueenwrites/pseuds/killerqueenwrites</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>“You appear to be separated from the team.”</em>
</p>
<p>“Yep, most definitely.”</p>
<p><em>“You seem to be in a sealed room, Peter.”</em> Karen draws the lines of the walls for him; the room can’t be any more than four feet by four, but the walls stretch far above his head to the ceiling.</p>
<p>“Sealed? I must’ve got in here somehow.”</p>
<p><em>“Yes,”</em> Karen agrees, sounding uncharacteristically frustrated. </p>
<p>A mission with the Avengers doesn't quite go to plan.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Peter Parker &amp; Avengers Team, Peter Parker &amp; Tony Stark</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>531</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>2021 Irondad Sprint Event</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>funhouse horror</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>and here's my whump sprint fic! the prompts i used for this are: 'trap floor', 'plummet', 'eyes open', 'dark' and 'numb'.</p>
<p>big thanks to <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsreallylaterightnow">itsreallylaterightnow</a> for organising this event!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“All right,” Steve says, “everyone know what they’re doing?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Everyone, sitting in various spots around the Quinjet, mumble acknowledgments. Mr Stark looks like he’s barely holding back an eye roll. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“The plans we have are incomplete, so tread carefully. From what we do know, this place is rigged with traps. Be careful. We don’t want to lose anyone today.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Peter nods, checking his webshooters again before glancing over his spare canisters. More than enough. Karen glows a reassuring blue in his HUD. All systems good.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Everyone happy with their teams?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Mr Stark sits up. “Do not even think about—”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You’re still gonna be with the kid, Tony.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam coughs something into his hand. It sounds a lot like <em> Dad</em>. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Which is embarrassing as hell, and Peter would complain about it if he were with anyone else. But he’s with the Avengers—newly back together after <em> that </em> whole thing—and he doesn’t want to make it any more awkward. They have a mission, to scope out an abandoned base, and he just wants to do a good job.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>So he keeps quiet. Mr Stark glowers. Natasha looks intensely bored.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Coming in now,” Rhodey calls from the cockpit. “Everyone ready?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Ready,” Peter choruses along with everyone else.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Holy shit, he’s with the <em> Avengers</em>.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>“What, exactly, is the point of this?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Don’t be crabby,” Peter says.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Crabby—? How dare you? And if I am, as you say, crabby, it’s because this is clearly not the way to the server room.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“But we might find something else important.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Like what?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Well, if I knew, I wouldn’t’ve said <em>something</em>, would I?” Peter lets Karen scan a panel in the floor before he steps on it. “I don’t know what I thought Avengers missions were like, but it wasn’t this.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’m sorry,” Mr Stark says. “We’re—out of sync. Not quite the team we used to be. You’re doing great, though.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You’re just saying that.” The corridor turns a ninety-degree angle and they follow it. “Spider-Man here. We’ve finished our sweep of the, uh, the south corridor. We’re moving on to the…”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“East,” Mr Stark says.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“The east one now.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em> “Copy, kid, thanks,” </em> Steve replies, and then the comms are quiet again.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“All this and not even a secret door,” Mr Stark complains. “A SWAT team could’ve handled this.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Peter smirks. “Maybe the government thought you needed the practice. Team building.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Pep could’ve come up with something better than this.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em> “You boys be careful,” </em> Natasha says into the comms. <em> “I nearly got sliced in half just now.” </em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh, super,” Mr Stark says brightly. “I always wanted to be in an <em> Indiana Jones </em> movie. Kid, are you Lara Croft? Or what’s that other game you like?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Peter grins at the now-familiar warmth; Mr Stark’s pretending not to know, but he pays attention to him. “<em>Uncharted</em>? Hey, that works. You be Sully.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em> “Chatter,” </em> Rhodey interjects.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Okay, fun police,” Mr Stark mutters.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The comms fall silent for a moment. Peter picks his way down the corridor, all his senses on high alert.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Everyone seems to be getting the funhouse experience except us,” Mr Stark says.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“That a bad thing?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The man scoffs. “Definitely not.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em> “All right,” </em> Sam says over the comms, <em> “Romanoff and I found the control room.” </em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What?” Mr Stark says. “That’s not your team. Steve, they messed up the teams. Are you hearing this shit?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Steve sighs heavily. <em> “Yes, Tony.” </em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>More silence. Peter contemplates the corridor ahead. “Is this what it’s gonna be like now?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What do you mean?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Like, half the team missing or AWOL.” Clint is retired, apparently. The Winter Soldier is in Wakanda. Wanda and Vision hover on the fringes, torn between staying and leaving. “Going on missions because someone told us to. Doing stuff like this forever when there’s real threats we should be focusing on.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“We’re working on it.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“And me?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Spider-Man’s name isn’t getting near those Accords until I’m happy with every single word and you’re eighteen.” Mr Stark looks so fierce for a moment that Peter almost apologises for bringing it up. “We’re working on it, kid.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Okay,” Peter says, and steps forward.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He knows he’s messed up instantly, even before something clicks beneath his feet. He has a split second to turn to Mr Stark, who starts to say, “What?” before the floor falls out from under him. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He plummets.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> “…kid? Kid, come on. FRIDAY, try Karen again. Shit—Peter—” </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>With a gasp, Peter sits up. It’s dark, too dark to make out anything. His head is throbbing—he groans—and there isn’t a part of him that doesn’t feel bruised.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> “Was that—? Kid, can you hear me?” </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Mr Stark?” Peter manages.</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em> “Oh, thank God.” </em> The man sounds like he’s exhaling heavily. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What happened?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> “Some kinda trap door. One second you were there, and the next…” </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Ugh.” Clearly he’d tumbled and landed hard enough to knock him out for a moment or two, but not with enough force to seriously injure him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> “Where are you? Are you hurt? We’re on a private channel.” </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I don’t know where I am.” Peter stands, stifling a hiss when his body protests. “It’s really dark, though. I can’t see, like, at all.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> “Can you see anything?” </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No,” Peter whispers. “Just—black.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em> “Okay.” </em> Mr Stark goes quiet for a moment. <em> “I’m trying to find you, but my tracking system’s all messed up. Hang in there, kid.” </em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>Peter is able to stand the oppressive silence for approximately four seconds before he can’t anymore. “Can you talk?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> “Hm?” </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“About, like, anything. Just so it isn’t so quiet.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> “Sure, kid. Uh, you better appreciate this. Not everyone gets to hear about my college days.” </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Bet Rhodey knows.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> “Oh, he knows everything. And he’s sworn to secrecy, just like you’ll be after this.” </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em> “And I’ve never told a soul,” </em> a new voice says.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> “Private channel mean anything to you?” </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> “Nah. Everyone’s in the control room, trying to locate the kid. How are you, Spidey?” </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Sore and trapped.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em> “We’ll get you outta there,” </em> Mr Stark says firmly. <em> “Now, you want this story or not?” </em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’m trembling in anticipation.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> “Okay, so one time I forgot my room key and decided the only solution was to climb through the window—I should mention I had been immersed in college culture, so my brain wasn’t firing on its usual number of cylinders. Anyway, so there I am, picking the locked window, not realising that Rhodey was already staging an ambush for this late-night intruder.” </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em> “It was three AM,” </em>Rhodey cuts in, a grin in his tone.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> “That’s what I said. And poor, naive, innocent, trusting Tony finally climbs through the window and gets a desk chair to the shoulder blades.” </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> “It barely touched you.” </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> “I lost my trust that day, Peter. It scarred me. All I wanted to do was crawl into bed, and instead I get assaulted.” </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> “I thought I was being robbed.” </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Peter listens to them bicker with a smile, relaxes as they fire back and forth. It doesn’t quite make him forget about where he is and what’s happened, but certainly pushes it closer to the back of his mind.</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em> “The best part of this?” </em> Mr Stark says. <em> “Our dorm was on the second floor.” </em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> “I still don’t know how you got up to that window in your state.” </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em> “Honestly, me neither.” </em> Mr Stark clears his throat. <em> “Okay, I’ve made it to the control room. Open your comms up, kid. We’ll get you out of there before you know it.”  </em></p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>It isn’t before he knows it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The team is arguing over his comms, and the noise is so overwhelming when he can’t see a thing that he wants to rip his mask off and throw it far away. The only thing that’s stopping him is the knowledge that he might not be able to find it again, and then he’d really be in trouble. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> “Keep looking, okay? They can’t hide a whole damn underground room, or whatever the fuck.” </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Something blinks in Peter’s vision, a soft blue light.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> “Rebooting…hello, Peter.” </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Karen.” He sighs in relief. “Hey. Where’d you go?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>His display trickles back to life, instantly comforting. <em> “I’m not sure why I shut down, Peter, but I’m having trouble connecting to FRIDAY. Would you like me to contact Mr Stark?” </em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Nah, I got him on comms. Can you scan the area?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> “You appear to be separated from the team.” </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yep, most definitely.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em> “You seem to be in a sealed room, Peter.” </em>Karen draws the lines of the walls for him; the room can’t be any more than four feet by four, but the walls stretch far above his head to the ceiling.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Sealed? I must’ve got in here somehow.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em> “Yes,” </em> Karen agrees, sounding uncharacteristically frustrated. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Okay, well, work on sending out a tracker signal so the others know where I am.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> “Activating secondary beacon.” </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Thanks.” Peter takes a hesitant step forward, then another, following Karen’s scan in his HUD, until his fingers brush the far wall. He starts to walk along it, feeling for any possible break or weakness, but nothing. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> “Okay, see what that control panel over there does. There has to be something here.” </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>So it’s obviously not going great in the server room.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> “Are there any CCTV feeds, even? Anything?” </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em> “Doesn’t look like it,” </em> Mr Stark says with a frustrated sigh. <em> “Kid, how you doing down there?” </em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Tryna find a way out. You guys don’t sound like you’re having much luck.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em> “How on earth did you reach that conclusion?” </em> Rhodey says. </p>
<p> </p>
<p><em> “Is it time to start pushing all the buttons until something works?” </em> Steve asks</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Peter can hear the frown in Sam’s voice when he says, <em> “Well, I wouldn’t recommend it—” </em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>There’s a groan, like old pipes creaking, and Peter lifts his head at the unmistakable sound of water flowing, splashing on a solid floor.</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em> “What was that?” </em> Sam asks. <em> “Why did you press that?” </em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> “I’m trying to get the kid out, none of these are labelled.” </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Uh, guys—”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> “Stand back, you’re a safety hazard—” </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Something wet and cold hits Peter’s toes, and he yelps.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> “Whoa, what’s going on?” </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> “Kid?” </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He focuses in on Mr Stark’s voice. “There’s, uh, water in here.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> “As in, there was always water and you’ve just discovered it, or this is a new development?” </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“New thing. Yep. Definitely new.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>There’s a flurry of cursing over the comms.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> “Kid, stay calm, all right? I’m gonna get you out of there.” </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Make it soon,” Peter says. The water’s pooling around his feet now. “Karen, where’s it coming from?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She highlights a section of the wall, high above the ground, in his HUD, a large round hole. A pipe.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I could get through that,” he murmurs, half to himself. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> “What was that?” </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> “I wouldn’t advise it, Peter. If the pipe narrows, you could be stuck, and my scanners don’t reach far enough to tell if it’s a viable exit.” </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Worth a try, right?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em> “Spidey, what’s going on?” </em> Steve asks.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“There’s a pipe here I’m gonna try and get through. Should be wide enough.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em> “What?” </em> Mr Stark says sharply. <em> “Correct me if I’m wrong, kiddo, but I could’ve sworn I heard you saying you were going to climb through a pipe, but that couldn’t be right, because you’re smarter than that. Run it by me again?”  </em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I can fit through the pipe.” Peter starts to move towards the wall, feet splashing in the water that’s now nearly up to his ankles. It’s freezing. He shivers. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> “Just because you can doesn’t mean you should.” </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I can’t stay here.” Peter climbs up the wall until he’s beside the opening. “It’ll be fine. Like the Chamber of Secrets. Weird pipes hidden in the walls and opening up without warning. Now all we’re missing is a giant snake.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em> “What the fuck is he talking about?” </em> Natasha mutters. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You don’t know <em> Harry Potter</em>?” Peter cries. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> “Not the time, kid.” </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Right.” Peter listens to the flow of the water. As far as he can tell, the pipe slopes diagonally upwards, and its volume isn’t even close to maxed out. He could easily get through. “Okay, I’m, like, ninety-nine percent certain I won’t drown if I go in there. Water isn’t filling it up, so plenty of room to breathe.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> “If your aunt asks, no, I did not endorse this plan.” </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“That’s fair.”</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>To say it’s slow going—well, understatement would be an understatement.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It’s still dark; all Peter has to guide him is Karen’s scan of the pipe ahead. Water is still rushing through it, numbing his fingers and pushing back against him as he tries to climb. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> “Kid?” </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Hey.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em> “You went a bit quiet,” </em>Mr Stark says.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Sorry. I’m still in the pipe,” Peter says. “Have you traced my location yet?” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> “No luck. Something in the walls is interfering—but just stay where you are. If I get close enough, it’ll work.” </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’m gonna keep moving.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> “Pete—” </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Look, I can’t go backwards—the room’s probably full of water by now. And if I stay here, I’ll freeze.” As if to prove his own point, a shiver wracks his body, almost making him lose his grip on the side of the pipe. “K-Karen?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> “The heater is currently functioning at fifty percent capacity. I’m afraid I can’t make it any warmer.” </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“So we climb.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> “Kid, you know you can’t get too cold. Just—how far do you think you’ve come? Any turns?” </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> “I estimate Peter has travelled over two hundred metres, but I have no point of reference for where he might be.” </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em> “I’m serious,” </em> Mr Stark says, <em> “if you get too cold, you need to tell me.” </em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>“And what’s your plan if I do?” Peter asks without bite. His knee knocks painfully against a jutting-out link in the pipe.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> “Start tearing this place apart, obviously.” </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em> “What happens if he gets too cold?” </em> Natasha murmurs. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> “Spider thing. His body starts producing chemicals that trigger the hibernation process. He shuts down, basically.” </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> “Yikes.” </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> “Yep.” </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em> Yikes </em> is about right, Peter agrees, especially when letting go or passing out means a painful slide back into a room that must be completely submerged by now. He can’t let that happen. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>So he keeps climbing, pushing against the constant stream of water gushing down on his head, one shivering step at a time.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>The sound changes. Different to water echoing up and down a metal pipe. It’s less hollow. More like a river.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Peter takes a deep breath and pushes up, ignoring his trembling legs—shit, he’s exhausted. And cold—until the pipe narrows, so suddenly he panics about getting stuck, but then he’s free and surrounded by water, panicking, choking, and all he can do is kick up up up—</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He breaks the surface, gasping and floundering, and kicks. Everything is just water, dragging at his feet, rushing in his ears. He can hear voices but not what they’re saying, but his hands hit something solid and he drags himself up onto it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> “—going on? Spider-Man!” </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Gimme a minute,” Peter groans, and rolls over. Grass. He’s outside. Good. Great. He got out. <em> He did it. </em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> “I got your location. We’re on our way.” </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Peter sighs, trying to peel open one eye, but slams it shut. <em> Too bright. No, thank you. </em> “Hey, Karen?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> “Yes, Peter? </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Can you go blind from—from it being dark? For too long?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> “Prolonged strain in low light levels can cause damage, but you were in there for less than an hour. Your eyes simply need to adjust.” </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Cool. That’s cool.” Peter lies back, eyes closed, letting the sun warm him. He could sleep, right here, and—</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Hey, Spider-Man!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Scratch that, then.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Hey.” Someone pats his cheek, insistent. “Can you hear me? Keep your eyes open.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Bright,” Peter protests. There’s more noise, more people running, the sound of repulsors. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>A sigh. “All right. But you better stay awake, you hear me?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Ugh.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“God, there’s no way they aren’t related,” someone else says under their breath. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Where is he?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Tony, calm down.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Do not tell me to calm down, Rogers.” The shouting gets closer, and Peter frowns as best he can without opening his eyes. “Why is he passed out?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“He’s not passed out.” A pause. “Kid, you didn’t pass out, did you?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No,” Peter grumbles. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“He says it’s too bright. He was underground a long time.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Give him here.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The person holding Peter hands him over without protest or difficulty, and then he’s resting in a pair of solid metal arms. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Hey,” he says quietly.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Hey yourself,” Me Stark replies, his voice just as low. “You hurt anywhere?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Lucky for you, Karen agrees. Think you can walk?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Should be okay.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Hm.” But Mr Stark gently sets him down, one hand still steadying him, and Peter turns his face into the man’s shoulder. “Karen, filter light levels: ten percent.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> “You got it.” </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Peter dares to open one eye, then the other, sighing in relief when it doesn’t hurt. “That’s better, thanks.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I think of everything.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Except a waterproof heater, apparently.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Next time we’re in the lab, that’s what we’re doing. And boosting the trackers. And a million other things.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Sounds good.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“So good.”</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>“The first thing you’re doing is getting in a warm shower,” Mr Stark says when the Quinjet lands back at the Compound, “and the second thing is we need to figure out what to tell your aunt about this.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Tell her I had an unscheduled off-road excursion.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“That doesn’t sound much better.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Well, we’ll think of something else.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“We better.”</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Peter stares at the shower, at the water splashing on the tiles, at the steam rising.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Not the same. It’s not the same.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He steps into it, closes his eyes, panics in the second when water hits the top of his head.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>But it’s warm. It’s quiet. When he opens his eyes, he can see.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It’s not the same. He’s safe.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>“So how exactly did you end up in the pipe?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Peter meets Mr Stark’s eyes across the table, but he looks just as thrown. And mildly alarmed. “Uh…”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“It was…” Mr Stark nods. “An unscheduled off-road excursion.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Right.” May stares them both down, chopsticks poised in midair. “And what does that mean?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Obviously, you know, splitting up wasn’t part of the plan—Cap’s really into his teams, y’know?—but these things happen out in the field. You gotta be able to roll with the punches, and the kid did a great job.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“But what happened?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Um…” Peter takes a long sip of his soda. “I was—doing Chamber of Secrets, you know? Secrets in the pipes.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>May stares. Mr Stark visibly panics. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Okay, it was a bit not good, but I handled it. And Karen helped.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Hm,” May says, but she turns back to her food and seems to drop the subject. Peter sighs in relief, relaxes, until, “So why did Rhodey describe it to me as ‘some funhouse horror bullshit’?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> Shit.  </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>i'm on tumblr at <a href="https://akillerqueenwrites.tumblr.com">akillerqueenwrites</a>, or my main blog <a href="https://akillerqueenyouare.tumblr.com">akillerqueenyouare</a>. come say hi, ask questions, leave prompts or just yell at me. thank you for reading!</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>